Speaking As an Imagineer. . . . . .

THIS IS MY STORY

By Smoak

________________________

 

Dear Daniel and All other Imagineers...........

This is every exciting and a bit scary, too, as I am coming into the open here and will have to pay attention.

As an introduction, I will use my responses to the list of characteristics of how I manifest the energy of the Gift Of Imagination.  It may encourage others to do the same, of course, in their own style, because we each would want to know the other and this is one way to it.

My association with the Recons has been as a lurker on the other message board (Club Recon) and reader/student of the website.  I have talked several times with Daniel and write frequently to let him know those moments when his work as had an extra potent [it is always potent] effect on me.  The messages are always timely.

So here is what I have to say about all this right now: 


The Orientation Toward IMAGINATION:  "The Gift of Visionary Creativity"

 

Sounds quite grand, doesn't it?  But then each gift does. This one sings to me. Living it is a quiet series of
adventures.  Many as reruns because the are so good and still work magic.  Many others are serials as I learn or invest more possibilities.  Then there are those that come unbidden and overwhelm me.  With a few of these last ones....... I am slowly beginning to see why I get them.  The majority are sweet gifts of insight and/or answers to quests.

The initial picture associated with this gift is said to be one of "Inward and Self-Nurturing."  And this one I can literally start with because as a child I recognized and knew it in words "I am my own best friend and will never leave me. Just with me and God forever."  This was supported by my Sunday School, Christian Science teachings that God is Love and ever present.  And the love I knew was the warmth and comfort when in my mother's arms.  Often, when we were that close and alone, she would say, "Oh Dona.  You were such a beautiful baby" and then sigh deeply. 

The sincerity of this statement was palpable and wrapped in love.  The tone of her voice, however, let me know that this was no longer true as something had happened or had failed to happen.  Sometimes she would give this clue.  "Why can't you act like a lady?"  Then I'd ponder just what a lady was so that I could act that way. This was long before I started to read voraciously and actually use dictionaries.  And the people who were referred to as ladies that I could study were far older than I and didn't look or act in a way that I could look or act.  I tried it when in front of Mother's full length mirror so I knew.  I looked rather silly.  So I gave up worrying about it and just was the best me I could think of to be when Mom was looking.  The rest of the time I just did was I was
doing how I did it.

I think I was in my early adolescence that I learned that I had to trust other people.  Had to.  If I didn't I'd not have any friends. And all of the other kids seemed to hurt me one way or another.  So I concluded again in actual words I would have to trust that they would do exactly what they wanted to do and that may hurt me.  It seemed to work.  So I gave them my trust - sincerely.  But I also guarded myself and didn't let them know me at all.  When they did find out stuff, it was used to hurt me so I learned to be still about it all.  My sister helped me a lot here as she gave me lots of practice.  And I learned to laugh at my self and be a class clown of sorts so others were invited BY ME to laugh at me, too. 

When Mom was 96 and we had found her again after 35 years, she told me that my sister, who was three years older, was jealous of me.  She wrote, " You can thank Maxine for my neglect of you, she was very jealous of you and even when she was in grade school she would black me out."   You will notice that my Mom didn't have the usual world view and the world called her paranoid schizophrenic.

And she wrote it again a few sentences down and after all of those years.  "Maxine was very evil & made me completely neglect you in her jealousy.  I'm sorry you were such a beautiful baby & I loved you very much." Yep, Mom.  I knew that.  Nevertheless, YOU scared me very badly as the years went on.   I can no longer touch on that fear, but, while I had it, it was ulcer making.

Well now doesn't that just wrap it up?  Consider a benign little romping tomboy who had yet to learn to make judgments [late bloomer in that, too], who really wanted to tag along with her big sister, but was rebuffed consistently. Collecting daily all of the impressions in those first few years that I would need for the next sixty as fodder to regurgitate and chew on for honing my skills, working the experiment, living my adventures, managing new relationship skills, observing the workings of the Universe from 3D and trying to figure it all out.  Mom, Max and Dad each gave me their contributions and I gave them mine just like we agreed to do.  And I've even remembered how we did it for each other in other lives as well.  Old friends--who I can sincerely trust to do what they are supposed to do.  Hahahaha   That smarts a bit, sometimes.  But then we are good at our jobs.

And it was about 1995, when I was 65 years old, that I began the harvesting of all those years.  I could see how my Imagination functioned even when suppressed--by falling in line and being employed and well occupied in doing stuff so that others would not think me lazy.

Lazy!  What a beautiful, luxurious happening...... so often used as a whip.  As with most Loners, I don't get bored so much as the outer performance doesn't hold my attention.  It just fades away and the bored part I miss totally.  If someone gets in my face for having tuned them out, then there is an up front and personal drama to engage with.  While that may not be pleasant, it still affords thoughts to consider when on that merry-go-round of  "I should have said . . . " And when THOSE become boring is when new methods of escaping the merry-go-round come into being. 

This is what happened when the daydreams became contemplation.  However, serious contemplation takes lots of time and one needs to create a framework to use or the multiple distractions take over and the wondering wanderings go to Never-Never Land and end on merry-go-rounds.  Boring serves.

I find that my contemplations work best in a dialogue. For me, it is usually between the right and left hemispheres of the brain, which my slight condition of dyslexia makes possible.  It also opens my mind, enabling spiritual insertions of new ideas, these all shuffle around in the pot--fermenting and transforming--to provide the big "Ah ha!"...... then suddenly the bread is done, and it is sweet to taste.

"Passionate":  Oh yes.  As an audience I am quite vocal in my appreciation, and carefully kind [or so I hope] when giving a requested critique.  When performing, give me room.  I have become that of which I speak and it tends to be bigger than life. Therefore, I must be acting out my dreams?  Perhaps there is a part of me that is assigned to that etheric dimension of beings who dream the dreams we are here manifest.  I like fresh material, that has only enough congruity to regular people's lives to allow them to enjoy the show.

One might say I am a noisy and very outspoken dreamer.  If I were ever shy, I was long ago coxed out of that box.  But then I have lived a long time, and one does often forget past limitations.  So many bumps in the
road.......only the breakdowns are remembered and appreciated.  Besides, when a little journey is completed, only the parts that have great beginnings, middles and endings are worth polishing up and telling.

"Meek and Mild":  Far from it.  I am unable, were I to so desire, to sneak into a room of people.   There have been times when I have attempted to be more meek, mild..........less hanging out there...... and I only experienced failure. It was also embarrassing when friends fell down laughing at my attempts.  So going against one's nature is futile, you know?  I've settled on refinement, whatever that is, but will most likely just continue to grow into what it is I am to become.  I reach for the wisdom of my oldest self as Smoak and listen for suggestions and insights.  We don't sweat it much.  Life is too good to waste on forcing adjustments to it.

"Restless":  I am suddenly unsure what that means, especially in this context.  Restless.  Let me see. Physically, I can sit still for hours.  My image center is always on and there is always movement.  In that sense, I am restless like the ocean playing with the breezes.  I also can sit and listen for hours - preferably on the phone so I can let my face be free to express itself - to others talk of their problems or concerns.  I have learned to let the pictures of their words form without comment from me. This process does not retain details.  I am listening to
another's dream that has manifested.

WOW!  Retain no details!  This must be where I abbreviate.  Or perhaps precipitate would be a better word for me.  I look for the fall out from what they are saying and sort through that stuff to see what is worth keeping.  I
do that for my self as well when confronted with choices or what's to be written selected out of all the other that is
available. Also it is not the details of what is happening that is of import.  It is how does this drama serve the whole?  What spiritual muscles are being exercised here?  What beliefs are controlling this action and need to be detached?  What in this picture of reality needs to be changed?  What agreements to never do so and so or to always do it are keeping this a problem?  Who's idea was this anyway?  And so on.

"Little patience for the protocols and delays of life in 3D."   Well you have me here.  The little dances that we
do over and over when first we meet or the ritual jokes and superficial social drivel that passes for conversation at most events.  I try to change them when someone catches me and starts the dance.  Give a fresh approach.  Unexpected approach.  I live near a small town and so the stores are small, too, and the employees [often the owners] get to know me and give me bright smiles with their greetings and expectedly wait for me.

Hum.  And just recently I was experiencing that with a bit of frustration and . . . boredom?  Maybe I should invite them to perform.  I wonder.  How does one stop a routine without offending?  Let it be interesting and
harmless.

"Creative and Artistic":  My singing. My mother, thrice orphaned by her own mothers before the age of 15, took great care to give us art, piano, violin and voice lessons.  Of it all, I can sing and make wonderful sounds and noises.  And when I learn not just the notes and words, but the meaning of the song which may change over time, it feels very satisfying. 

I first met my God in our high school choir when it was traditional to learn things originated for church use.  On stage with a full orchestra, all well disciplined, and before an attentive audience, one can create a strong link with the divine.  I can now do that all by myself.  Add a bit of gratitude and it is orgasmic.  Ah....... kundalini perhaps?  Anyway, that activity did smooth the path in schools and in many other social areas that let me be seen as a bit special that gave cover for my oddities.  I never have felt fully welcome in any place.  Special friends over the years?  Yes.  Actually many friends.  But "groups?" No.  Where one aspect of me blended in, other aspects may have been offended by the company I kept.  Which hindsight says gave me entrance into a vast selection of places and many more individuals that otherwise would have been denied to me.

I find it humorous that there are some people I know who are uncomfortable being with me in public places.  As I have begun to look much older, this seems to have made a difference.  My oddities can now be seen as cute or eccentric or quaint.  I remember thinking such thoughts when only forty.  I will tell you that it can all be far more interesting from 76.  I look forward to seeing it all from 110.  I'll probably still have an internal sense of being maybe 35 most of the time.

"Challenged to Create a Better World":   Here is the core and source of my youthful anger and frustrations.  By the age of 25 I knew full well who and what I was, discovered I was one of millions like me, knew my kind were actually listed as illegal in most of the worlds legal systems and church dogmas to act what we are, and had made major decisions that took me into the underworld of social structures.  My new husband, Miller, and I, both gay, dreamed together of our future.  This was to give my childhood skills a greater purpose.  We'd work hard and buy a large house or duplex and find another couple like ourselves to share it with.  Publicly, he and I would be a couple, privately she and I would be one of the two real couples.  And we would live happily ever after.

Well that just never materialized.  The guys Miller brought home were not the marrying kind and the woman I finally coupled with didn't want him under foot.  But the core, the microcosm of peaceful co-existence to solve the world's problems had a framework of partnership and community that I have revisited, revised, reframed, and massively expanded as the years progressed and I learned more about both the workings of the Universe and the reptilian perspective.

My college major had been sociology so I had learned how to see from an overview.  Academically, I could and can accept the dynamics of the bad guys and how they managed things.  Emotionally, personally and with heart intelligence, I am just now in the finishing stages of being able to sincerely see the bad actors with love and understanding knowing that they, too, serve the Divine.

Nevertheless, because of removing as many restraints as I can to freely be an instrument of my own Divinity, I can snap into a rage of rightful indignation when seeing an actual act that is so incredibly ugly I cannot contain myself.  Usually being alone, this is an advantage for then I can better hear myself yelling at the news source and can know I have more work to do and exactly what it may be.  And it is always multi leveled.

First there is acknowledging and blessing those who have the victim roles for they do know what they do.  Next blessing the perpetrators for their courage in taking on such karmically loaded positions.  Seeing these dramas as the necessary playing out of thought forms still functioning in our 3D for the last times where the whole world is witness and will assist in the global awakening.

Then there is addressing what it is within me that still gets hooked when seeing such dramas.  Finding my balance, the elegant neutrality of an awakening being.  In the process I do get to where I can appreciate and glory in the correctness of the cast of characters on our public dramas -- those bad guys. But it is a temporary place.  I think I have taken it with me as I again move into ordinary living, but nope.  Recently, I find that I have a choice of letting it hit the fan or not.  So that is a BIG step completed.  May there be an increase, oh God!

But the Dreams, the building of the newness that is coming in.  In 1986 Speakers suggested to me to cast a net into the sky and bring thought forms into human reality.  Having caught many aquarium fish in small nets, I could imagine easily how it would feel to have great fish full of new ideas and ideals dashing around in my net until I could release them into the river that is below my deck.  Then to see them moving both upstream and down.  Up to refresh and energize our valley and to then turn and go out to sea with the others and on around the globe to where they were needed.

I've lived by the North Fork of the Coquille River since 1983 and have visualized ways in which we could be better neighbors, find ways through the incessant blackberry canes to be physical with each other and improve how Steele Creek comes under the road toward my house, bends and joins with the river.  These improvements all have taken place without my intervention or initiation.  And now we are planning some more for the new century.  I may just initiate most of these myself as it has more to do with the banks than the course she takes.

Earlier in the 70s I had wanted a clothes dryer that stopped when the clothes were dry and not so dry that they break and spoil.  I researched and planned and finally abandoned the idea although it was quite clear in my head.  Within a few years they came out with one.  I feel that I contributed in that endeavor.

I acknowledge these successes not to boast, but to describe another way of the workings of the Universe and how our dreams assist in the successful manifestation.  So I don't doubt that our dreams of the future, the very details, are being considered and constructed and on their way to us in the useable future.

This is emerging NOW!  We really don't need to wait for the rest of the planet.  The ETs HAVE landed and
we are in communication with them daily.  Our community IS at peace and working in harmony with each other.  Our Spiritual work is on time and timely and newness is growing all around us.  We ARE in touch with the Multiverse and share information.......visiting back and forth.  And even the new forms of doing business are
constructed and many are functioning and growing well under the radar.  I know.  I am used to moving in the underground.   Just as I knew in the 1950s that, were all of the gay and trans gender people on the planet to stay home from work for a week, the world's economies would collapse.  So do I know now that were we to go into a stock market crash we all would be okay.   Most of us are marginal in many different ways now anyway.  We know how to care for ourselves and each other.

But I also see that it can be built in such a way that we not only will survive, but flourish.  I will need to write that picture of reality for another purpose and will send that on when complete.  It is far too big to fit in here which
already is too long. Let it be known that I am major full time Better World Builder and a major bridge between the spiritual design work and the manifestation thereof.  I am ever so ready for joining a community of other dreamer builders by whatever name we use.

Let us begin.

Loving you all,

Smoak


Copyright, 2006, by D. Vondell Smoak. All Rights Reserved. 

Write to Smoak!  Become an Imagineer.

THE GIFT OF IMAGINATION (click here)